


6 Days of Spicyhoney

by alicedragons



Series: 12 Days of Papcest [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Biting, Captivity, Codependency, Feeding, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magic Drinking, Sexual Themes, Vampire AU, Vampire Edge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-09-27 04:47:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17155589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alicedragons/pseuds/alicedragons
Summary: After living in captivity for almost a century, Edge is bought from his owner by a wealthy philanthropist. The healing process is slow, and there are demons Edge will never let go of, but with another soul to share his troubles with, he makes do.The Spicyhoney portion of my contribution to 12 Days of Papcest.





	1. Day 1 - Relinquish

**Author's Note:**

> Most of you probably know I'm a huge slut for Spicyhoney, so naturally, I had to dedicate half of 12 days of Papcest to them. Part 2 will be non-Spicyhoney ships (although... I sort of cheated on one or two days).  
> Make sure you read the tags for this fic. The main theme of the fic is hurt/comfort, but there will be some darker chapters. I'll add individual warnings to each one. This chapter's warnings include **inhumane captivity and imprisonment**.

Rus hated visiting the Sanctuary. It felt too much like a zoo. Or a prison. Concrete walls and cold metal bars locking in the monsters society had deemed unnatural. A thin creature with leather wings and a broken look on its gaunt face, crawling in endless circles; a feathered beast with talons longer than Rus’s arm, shrieking restlessly; a sleek monster with silver scales, trapped in a tank of water that barely passed as a bathtub. Rus loathed the place. Yet every month, he was here, never missing a visit.

The warden stopped at a locked gate and reached for the keys at his belt. “Had to have ‘im moved a couple of days ago,” he told Rus. “He was gettin’ a bit rowdy.” He wiggled his bandaged hand, baring his broken yellow teeth in a grin. “Almost took my fingers off.”

Rus frowned. “is he okay?”

“Oh yes, you don’t have to worry ‘bout a thing, sweetheart. We’ve got ‘im sedated. And he knows what happens if he misbehaves.” The warden tapped the taser at his belt, shooting Rus a grin which he didn’t return. They reached a heavy metal door with a keypad, and the warden punched in a series of numbers.

“this is new…”

“Most secure part of the facility,” the warden said proudly. “Had it built just the other week.”

“for this monster in particular?” Rus asked wearily.

“He certainly sped along the process.”

There was a viewing room on the other side of the door, which looked into a stark white cell. Rus could see his beneficiary through the glass, sitting with his back against the wall, knees drawn to his chest. The colour was sapped from his face. He looked frail. “how is he?” Rus asked, frowning.

The warden grimaced. “He’s been havin’ more outbursts than usual, gettin’ more violent. ‘Specially since he isn’t fed as often.”

“when was the last time he was fed?” Rus asked, sockets widening.

The warden looked at him, brow raised. “Not since your last visit.”

Rus’s soul withered. “doesn’t he have other donors?”

“Not anymore.” The warden looked at the creature bitterly. “The others stopped comin’ weeks ago. Didn’t like bein’ around him. Too dangerous.” He eyed Rus. “Sure you don’t wanna use the syringe?”

Rus looked sadly at the monster, a tight knot forming in his chest. “no,” he said firmly, “let me in.”

The warden looked dubious, but he scanned his security card and the cell doors slid open. The monster immediately looked up. His eyes were empty and black. They were supposed to be red… Rus smiled kindly. Or tried to. The creature was so pitiful, it was difficult to hold back tears. “hello,” he said softly, so as not to startle the monster. “you remember me, don’t you? i’m your donor. i’m here to feed you.” He approached cautiously and the monster flinched. Rus stopped. “it’s okay. i won’t hurt you. i want to help.”

Rus didn’t know the creature’s name. The Sanctuary had told him he didn’t have one, but he didn’t believe that. Everyone had a name, even the most beastly of monsters. Even this one. One of these days, Rus hoped to learn it. “are you hungry?” He carefully unwound his scarf, and at once, the creature looked up, staring at his neck.

The soul was the best source of magic, but it would be far too dangerous to feed this monster directly from it, even Rus knew that. The neck was the next best option. Magic supplies were heavy between the vertebrae, always travelling through the skull and back down. Rus could tell by the way the creature fixated on his neck that it was a point of enticement.

He sat down on the floor next to the him, leaving enough space between them to put him at ease. The creature seemed to have abandoned his earlier reservations, however, for he quickly crawled closer. Rus glanced at the viewing window. He couldn’t see through the glass, but he gave a nod of reassurance to affirm his safety. The warden struck him as an ‘taser first, ask questions later’ type of man.

The monster cupped Rus’s skull and he tilted his head to present his neck. “go ahead,” he said softly, brushing his fingertips over the creature’s hand. “take as much as you need.” The monster’s hand trembled where it held him. His eye sockets were black pits, but Rus could still see the terror in them. “oh, you poor thing,” Rus whispered. He held the monster’s hand steady and leaned in, resting his head against his shoulder. “you’re not going to hurt me,” he assured him. “take your time, i’m not going anywhere.”

The creature made a soft sound—almost a whine. It was pitiful, desperate. He was still holding back, so Rus moved closer to him. Another inch or two, and their bodies would have been flush. “it’s okay,” Rus whispered against the side of his skull. “i’m right here with you. just give in.” The monster’s breaths ghosted against Rus’s neck. He was so close. “you can give in.”

The creature relinquished. Still shaking, he touched his teeth to Rus’s neck. His fangs were like razors, cutting into the bone even before he bit down. He sunk his teeth into the cartilage and the breath escaped Rus. He shut his eyes, withholding a wince, lest he discourage the monster. Magic rushed from his neck, some spilling down his collarbone and staining his shirt gold. As he drank deeper, the monster crushed himself closer to Rus, wrapping him in his arms.

His drink was long, and when at last he broke away, Rus felt dizzy. Venom rushed through him, hot and prickly, but not unpleasant. He tried to stand up but the creature was clinging to him tightly. Rus sighed, but smiled. Attachment was common after a feed. Satisfied, the monster was purring softly. His sockets were lit, deep crimson, and his breathing was even.

“does that feel better?” Rus asked, stroking the creature’s jawbone. He looked up and met Rus’s gaze. The crimson of his eyes was startling, but there was beauty in them. He never spoke, but Rus knew he understood. At least to some degree.

“Alright, I reckon it’s time for you to come back out.” The warden’s voice over the intercom jolted Rus. Grudgingly, he climbed to his feet. The creature had withdrawn, and was holding himself again. The sound of the warden’s voice was not a welcome one. Rus draped his scarf back around his neck, carefully concealing the fresh bite marks. He crouched in front of the monster, who followed the path of Rus’s hand as he wiped a trace of his own magic from his mouth. The creature’s sockets widened, then he quickly cast his gaze away once again.

When Rus left the cell, the warden was waiting for him. “Didn’t hurt ya, did he?” he asked, glancing at the scarf around Rus’s neck with narrowed eyes.

“not at all. he’s quite gentle.”

The warden scoffed. “Sounds like you’ve just got a tolerance for pain. Most donors prefer the syringe.”

 “the syringe is hardly a comfortable method of feeding for him.” Rus frowned. “fresh magic is better.”

The warden cast him a dull look. “An’ yer the expert?”

“i’ve done my research,” Rus said coolly. Before they left the room, he cast a final glance through the viewing window. His breath caught when he found the monster looking directly at him through the glass. But—no, he couldn’t see through it. Could he?

His crimson eyes didn’t leave Rus until the metal door was sealed behind him.

“so, tell me,” Rus said as the warden led him through the passages. “how much would it cost me to take that creature off your hands?”

The warden stopped and turned. He looked suspicious. “Now why would a pretty kid like you want a burden like that on your hands? Tryna get yourself killed?”

Rus smiled pleasantly. “call me a collector of curiosities. much like yourself. only i have the means to pay for them.”

The warden studied him, then folded his arms. “And exactly how much are you offerin’?”

“what is he worth to you, exactly? you can’t even afford to feed him. surely you’d be grateful to have him off your hands?”

The warden hummed, then shrugged. “Creature like him has ‘is uses.”

“and what are those, exactly?”

“Money.”

“well, now you’re speaking my language.” Rus regarded the warden with a cool smile. “name your price.”

The warden chuckled, and his yellow teeth curled with interest.


	2. Day 3 - Refuge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rus welcomes his new guest to his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Implied past trauma, but overall, very lighthearted chapter. More feeding too! ^_^

Rus stood at the foot of the staircase, watching the front door with his breath held. The transaction had gone smoothly, and he’d spent the past two days making preparations for the arrival of his new guest. All that was left was to… welcome him. Rus wasn’t sure how exactly he was going to do that. Undoubtedly, he wouldn’t be quick to trust.

He perked up when the front door creaked open. His servants entered, dragging the struggling creature. “what are you doing?” Rus cried, hurrying forward. “unbind his hands at once. this is no way to treat a guest!”

The creature stared at him with wide eyes, and froze. Rus smiled faintly. “hello.” The creature said nothing, and he swallowed. Looking to his servants, he said, “you’re dismissed. go home for the day.” 

They regarded each other, frowning. “But, Sir… it isn’t safe.” They glanced at the creature, and Rus narrowed his sockets.

“are you disobeying a direct order?” he asked sternly.

They straightened at once, folding their hands behind their backs. “No, Sir.”

“good. dismissed.” Rus would have to have a firm word with them later. After they’d departed, he turned his attention back to the monster. “please, allow me to apologise for my servants’ treatment of you. you’ve already been through so much. i would hate for you to feel unwelcome here…” The monster flinched away as he reached out, and Rus let his hand drop, frowning. This… was going to be difficult.

He began by taking a step back to give the monster space. “i promise, i didn’t bring you here to hurt you. i just want to give you somewhere safe to stay. somewhere comfortable.” The monster stayed silent, watching him closely. “what’s your name?” Rus asked, smiling. The monster stared at him rigidly, but didn’t answer. Rus’s smile sank. “um, that’s okay, we can get to names later. i have a room set up for you. i can show you, if you’d like.”

He began to ascend the marble staircase, but when he turned around, the monster hadn’t followed. He was watching Rus from the front door, his shoulders hunched, his eyes dark. “this isn’t a trap,” Rus said carefully. “i promise. it’s only you and me in the house.” He’d sent all his servants home for the day. He didn’t want them startling his new arrival—or vice versa.

After several moments of deliberation, the monster took a cautious step forward. He trailed after Rus, keeping his distance. Relieved, Rus turned back around, smiling.

The room had been set up just for the monster. Rus had deliberately avoided the colour white. He’d chosen a pastel blue colour scheme, and had plenty of flowers arranged on the dresser and windowsill. A home, not a prison. “i hope it’s suitable,” he said as the creature surveyed the room. He looked unfazed. A win, in Rus’s books.

He’d taken the liberty of picking out some clothes for the creature. “these are for you.” He indicated the garments on the bed with a smile. “they’re mine, but they should do for now.” Anything would be more comfortable than the rags the Sanctuary had dressed him in, Rus was certain. “i’ll have some clothing of your own tailored for you as soon as i can.” Rus wondered idly what his tailor’s reaction might be to having a creature like this enter his shop. Nothing he’d voice in front of Rus, that was certain.

The monster studied the clothing, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. He picked up the sweatpants and looked at Rus deliberately. Rus stared at him, then quickly turned around when realisation struck him. He fidgeted, listening to the soft rustling of fabric as the monster undressed.

When he turned back around, he had to swallow the trickle of magic. His clothes were a little tight on the creature, showing the shape of his ribs and the curve of his hips. He averted his eyes, blushing. After banishing the treacherous thoughts that rushed to mind, he looked back. “comfortable?”

The creature watched him silently, then slowly ducked his head. A nod? Rus took it as such, and smiled. “anything else you need? are you hungry?” The question was reflexive, but unbidden, Rus found his hand wandering to his scarf.

The creature looked up at once. His gaze settled on Rus’s neck, and Rus realised the implications of his question. His face grew warm. “oh, i didn’t mean—” The creature tilted his head, and Rus cleared his throat. “i was going to make other arrangements for you. but if you would prefer… me.” The creature watched him with sharp focus. He approached Rus, caution forgotten. He sat down on the bed, beckoning for Rus to do the same.

Rus’s soul pounded, pushing magic through his body. Slowly, he sunk to the bed beside the monster, and allowed him to unravel his scarf. His dull red eyes fixed on Rus’s neck, where hot magic rushed. He leaned in, but Rus placed a hand on his chest. “wait.” The creature withdrew, watching curiously as Rus unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders.

Bare from his lower ribs up, Rus swallowed, holding himself. “it never felt appropriate… there,” he said quietly. “but we’re safe here.” He took the monsters hand and guided it to his clavicle. It was cool against his bone. “it’s closer to the soul. i just thought you might…”

The creature ducked his head and breathed over the bone, making Rus shiver. He exhaled as the monster’s mouth closed around his collarbone, warm and moist with magic. He bit down, and the rush of venom made Rus’s breath heave. Magic spilled down his ribs as the creature drank.

Rus’s eyes fluttered closed. The intensity of being bitten was always intoxicating, and today, the creature’s enthusiasm seemed heightened. He pushed himself into Rus, forcing him onto his back, then crawled on top of him. He drew back, tilting his head, and Rus felt himself shudder. The creature’s eyes were burning red. He studied Rus, tracing a finger over his collar bone, then ducked his head again. 

He changed the angle of his bite, sinking deeper, and Rus groaned. Instinctively, he wrapped his legs around the creature’s waist. It was ecstasy. He was drifting. His head was light and his soul felt warm and glittery. Like fire that didn’t burn. Warm and inviting.

Then it crumbled, and he was back on earth. He stared at the ceiling, catching his breath. That was nothing like his previous experiences donating magic. The creature was still leaning over him. His eyes were flickering a fierce red, and his gaze could have penetrated Rus’s soul. Slowly, he wiped Rus’s magic away from his mouth and sat back, folding his hands in his lap.

Rus shut his eyes. His breath was still just out of reach, and his head was swimming. He managed to hoist himself up, leaning back against the pillows. Wiping perspiration from his skull, he asked, “h-how does that feel?”

The monster looked at him without moving, silent as ever. His expression had softened, and there was colour in his face. His eyes were gentler. The way he watched Rus was almost… fond.

Looking away quickly, Rus climbed off the bed. “right… well, i’m going to clean myself up. if you need anything—”

“Edge.”

Rus startled, spinning around, wide-eyed. It was the first time he’d heard the monster speak. He was watching Rus, only now there was an apprehensiveness about him. “Edge,” he repeated. “That’s my name.” His voice was… surprisingly natural. Deep and rich and warm. Rus felt ashamed for having expected the growl of a beast.

Gathering his wits, he quickly nodded. “edge.” He smiled. “it’s good to have you here, edge. you can call me rus.” He buttoned his shirt back up and straightened his clothes. “feel free to make yourself at home. and know, that you’re safe here. anything you need—just ask me.”

He turned then, and left the room. Once he was out of Edge’s sight, he clasped his hands and grinned to himself.


	3. Day 5 - Passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge is settling into his new home quite nicely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shorter chapter today. I could probably have extended it, but I liked the note it ended on.  
> No warnings necessary, just biting and feeding. 😏

Every evening, after Rus had taken his supper downstairs, he invited Edge to his bedroom. They would sit and talk on Rus’s bed (although Edge typically let Rus do most of the talking). Then, with the formalities out of the way, Rus would take off his scarf and allow Edge to feed from him.

Edge anticipated this part of the evening every day. He enjoyed Rus, in more ways than one. His company was as palatable as his magic. Truthfully, Edge only required magic intake bi-weekly. But he treasured the excuse to be in Rus’s presence. He liked the feeling of him. The knowledge that he was wanted by someone.

Not to mention the feeding itself.

The flow of Rus’s hot magic into his mouth was… sheer pleasure. It was different here, in Rus’s home. In his prison, their sessions had been clinical. He’d always taken as much as he could in as little time. But here, it was passionate. Edge could savour it. He liked to drink slowly, cherishing the moment.

Rus’s hands wandered over his body as he fed. They were a comfort. Edge revelled in the curious touches of Rus’s fingers and the way Rus’s breath left him as he licked the wounds at his neck. A groan rumbled in his throat and he pushed his body into Rus, pressing him back onto the bed. Rus wrapped his legs around Edge’s waist, the way he loved it.

They were so close to each other. Edge could feel Rus’s very essence flowing through him, warm and sparkling. Like pure light. And through Rus, it flowed into Edge. Just a gentle trickle. It tingled, then simmered, and he dragged Rus closer to him, yearning for more.

He broke away to breathe—to breathe in Rus, the scent of his sweet magic, the warmth he emitted. Rus touched his face. He watched Edge with a gentle smile, sockets wet and eyes glittering. Pressing his mouth against Edge’s jaw, he whispered, “keep going.”

Edge leaned over Rus and enclosed him in his arms, then pulled him into his lap. Rus sank into him, resting his head on his shoulder. He breathed into the nape of his neck. “i love this feeling.”

Edge grunted in soft agreement. He tilted Rus’s head to the side to expose more of his neck, and traced the crystal white bone with his fingertip, marvelling him. With his tongue, he cleaned away the trickle of magic running down to Rus’s collarbone. Exploring Rus’s bare ribs with his hands, he sank his teeth in again, leaving another fresh set of wounds on Rus’s neck. Those would remain, he decided. 

Sometimes Rus had them healed. Other times, he let them stay there for days. And when he wore his scarf to hide them in polite company, there’d be a knowing look in his eyes whenever he smiled at Edge.

Edge drank deeply now. He’d savoured this long enough. Now, he wanted to enjoy his feed. He crushed Rus against him, earning him a quiet moan. A responding growl escaped him. In this moment, Rus was his, and no one else’s.

When his soul was burning with Rus’s magic, and his bones were flushed and alive, he drew away. Rus sagged into him, and Edge carefully lowered him onto the bed. His golden eyes were glazed and half-lidded, and his limbs had gone slack. Dazed, he barely moved when Edge manoeuvred them both beneath the covers. Pulling Rus into his arms, he pressed his face into the side of his neck, nuzzling him tenderly, seeking his warmth. He’d need to fetch Rus his replenishing draught, and call the servants for some hot towels and a bath.

Later. For now, they’d sleep.


	4. Day 7 - Addictive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You only truly realise you're addicted to something when you can't have it anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Over-dependency, unhealthy attachment
> 
> Another shorter chapter. This one is a little sad.

Sometimes, Rus went away.

“just work,” he’d tell Edge, with a reassuring smile and a gentle hand on his shoulder. “i’ll be back in a few days.” Edge hated those days. On those days, the house began to feel too big and too empty. He felt alone again. He felt like he was back in his prison.

He would wander the house, often finding himself in the places Rus spent a lot of time. His bedroom; the living room sofa; the armchair next to the fireplace in the library. They smelled like him, and Edge buried himself in it, clinging to the memories that were like precious gems in his mind. Rus asleep in his arms; listening to Rus breathe; lying against Rus’s chest while the rain pattered against the window; tasting Rus’s magic in his mouth.

Sometimes, it was enough. Sometimes, he could close his eyes and drift into a fantasy where Rus was back home, in his arms, his magic on Edge’s tongue, his head resting on Edge’s shoulder. Sometimes the memories were enough to satisfy the craving in Edge’s soul.

Other times, they weren’t.

Other times, he found himself wrapped in a nightmare. Sweating cold, struggling for breath, dry burning in his chest, mind locked in on a singular goal—to feed. When the servants came in to clean, he’d hide behind locked doors, hand clasped over his mouth, venom building beneath his tongue. His fangs grew sore with need. The need for magic—for _Rus’s_ magic.

It became painful.

And then Rus returned.

…

He needed Rus—no, it was more than a need. It was an addiction. He craved everything about him. His magic, his smile, his mere presence. Without him, Edge could feel himself returning to a version of himself he didn’t like. A part of him from a darker time in his life resurfaced. A part he preferred to keep buried.

 

“I don’t like it when you leave,” Edge said one day, twisting in Rus’s arms so his head was resting beneath Rus’s chin. Rus shuffled down beneath the covers to lie by Edge’s side. He met his gaze with a sad smile.

“i don’t like leaving either.” He traced Edge’s jawline down to his collarbone. “you’re very important to me, you know. saying goodbye to you is impossibly difficult, even if it’s only for a short time.”

Though Rus’s words warmed him, Edge’s chest still felt empty. He dropped his gaze. “I don’t think you understand… just how much I need you.”

Rus’s smile disappeared and he touched Edge’s face with light fingertips. “i’ll always come back. you know i’d never leave you.”

“I know it. Truly, I do.” Edge went quiet and shut his eyes. His throat burned and he breathed in. Rus’s scent reminded him that he wasn’t alone. That someone cared enough for him to be this close to him without their fear tainting the air. “I want it to be enough,” he whispered. “But… sometimes it isn’t.”

“oh, precious…” Rus squeezed him against his chest, kissing the crown of his skull. Edge squirmed in his arms, inching upward and placing his mouth over the bones of Rus’s neck—not biting, only tasting. He felt the recent wounds beneath his tongue. Faint traces of magic still lingered, sweet and tingling. Rus stroked his skull. “it’s only been a few hours since you fed. are you still hungry?”

Edge drew away slowly and shook his head. “Not hungry, I just… need you.”

Rus exhaled softly and wrapped his body around Edge; his legs around his waist and his arms around his neck, clinging to him. He smiled gently then pushed his face into Edge’s shoulder. “i’m right here,” he breathed. “i’m right here with you, precious, always.” Edge clenched his sockets shut and swallowed his tears. He relished in their closeness, their warm proximity.

But the precious moment was tainted, by the knowledge that soon Rus would be gone, and he would be alone again.


	5. Day 9 - Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge doesn't always cope so well without Rus. Or with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Non-consensual biting, unhealthy dependency, abandonment issues.

Rain hammered down on the driveway, and Rus ducked his head as his driver opened the car door. He held an umbrella over Rus’s head as he hurried to the front porch. After thanking him and bidding him goodnight, Rus fumbled his keys into the lock and the front door swung open. Its creak echoed in the front hall. The house was still.

“edge, sweetheart, i’m home,” Rus called, shrugging off his wet coat and hanging it on the clothing rack. The house remained silent. None of the lights were on downstairs, and there was a chill in the air. Picking up his suitcase, Rus headed upstairs.

His bedroom was dark, the curtains drawn over the windows. Rain beat against the roof, and thunder rumbled heavily. Rus tucked his suitcase under the armchair—unpacking could wait until tomorrow. He began peeling off his wet clothes, fumbling for the light switch.

He almost jumped when the room fell into brightness. Edge was curled up on the bed. He looked asleep… but his body was quivering. Frowning, Rus shed the remainder of his clothes and climbed onto the bed next to Edge in just his boxers.

Thunder cracked outside, and through the curtains, the sky lit up for a flash of a second. Rus drew Edge upright, guiding him back into his arms. Edge made a soft noise of discontent. “hey, precious,” Rus murmured. “it’s me.” Edge went still for a second then spun around, staring at Rus with bright, wide eyes. Rus smiled softly and stroked his cheek. “i’m sorry i’ve been gone so long, but i’m back now. i’m here.”

His smile faded when Edge kept trembling. “look at you, sweetheart, you’re shaking. what’s the matter?” Rus studied him, running his hands down his face and ribs. A thin sheen of sweat made his bones look sickly in the dim light. He was still watching Rus with penetrating focus, his expression almost one of alarm. There was a low rumble of thunder outside, and rain clashed against the window, like it was trying to get in.

Rus barely had time to blink before he was slammed onto his back.

He gasped, then cried out as Edge’s fangs sank deep into his collarbone. Edge was growling. He lapped away the magic and blood from Rus’s collarbone before biting his neck. With the shock of it came pain. Intense pain. A scream caught in Rus’s throat, but the breath had been knocked out of him, and no sound came out. He gripped onto Edge’s shoulders and tried to push him off. No use. Edge was drinking frantically, panting against Rus’s neck, spilling marrow onto the pillow.

“edge—no,” Rus whimpered through clenched teeth. “too much. _too much._ ” Edge’s arms tightened on his shoulders, and pain shot through them. Rus sobbed brokenly. “edge, _please._ ”

Shaking violently, Edge snapped away, still holding Rus. His grip was tight but tremulous, and his chest heaved. His eyes gleamed red, wide and full of terror. He pressed a hand over his mouth, which was still dripping with Rus’s magic. Whimpering, he let go, shutting his sockets.

Clutching his aching neck, Rus inched forward and reached out. “come here,” he said calmly, though his head felt light. With a faint sob, Edge fell into Rus’s arms, burying his head in his chest. Rus stroked his back, cradling him. “you’re okay. i’m here. i’m not leaving you, i promise.”

“I…’m s-sorry.” Edge’s breath hitched. His voice was pitifully broken. Rus swallowed back tears.

“oh, precious…” He bundled Edge closer, holding him as tightly as he could. “i won’t leave you for that long again. ever. okay? i—i can’t.”

“Because I’m… dangerous.”

Rus shook his head fervently. “because i can’t stand being away from you. because i need you.” He pressed his teeth to the crown of Edge’s skull, inhaling deeply. “ _so_ much.”

Edge clung to him and pressed his face against his ribs, breathing harshly. “When you’re gone… sometimes I—I feel like I can’t _breathe_ , I can’t—”

Rus hushed him gently, running his fingers down the back of his neck. “you’re strong, edge,” he said firmly. “but i’ll be your lifeline, whenever you need me, okay?” He cursed silently and wiped tears off his cheekbones. In his arms, Edge sobbed freely. Rus stroked his spine, murmuring, “do you understand me?” Edge nodded, and Rus exhaled, kissing the top of his skull.

He let Edge cry himself to sleep, then crept under the covers with him. Outside, the storm had quieted to a gentle rain.


	6. Day 11 - Cemetery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edge's past is not a pleasant place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** Unhealthy codependency, mentioned past death, mentioned child death, implied murder, somewhat possessive behaviour.

Edge had been wary about leaving the house at first, but he’d grown bolder over time. Sometimes, Rus took him to the market. Edge stayed close by his side while they wandered the colourful stalls. He never made eye contact with any of the vendors, much less spoke to them. 

In truth, the way he clung to Rus comforted Rus just as much as it must have comforted Edge. He knew how people liked to treat monsters like Edge, and he didn’t intend to make it easy for them. They’d have to go through him before they’d get to Edge. And with a name like his in a town like this (and security personnel keeping a close watch on anyone who strayed too close), going through Rus wouldn’t be easy.

Edge enjoyed the market, on occasion. Once, he’d plucked up the courage to buy a small bouquet of snowdrops from one of the vendors. There had been no speaking involved, only quiet pointing and nods. He’d been a picture of nerves when he’d given them to Rus; all shaking hands and downcast eyes. Rus had been certain his soul was going to melt.

But more than anything, Edge liked visiting the forest which lay a little further north, in the hills above their home. He’d spend hours beneath the trees, exploring all the nooks and crannies in the rock beds and flower fields. He loved the flowers. Especially the snowdrops, though he never picked them. And Rus loved to watch him. It was the only time Edge wasn’t completely fixated on his presence. As if he were alone, and truly happy.

There was one other place outside of the manor grounds that Edge frequented. He asked very little of Rus, but every month, he made one request. He’d shaken so hard the first time he’d asked, he’d barely been able to get the words out. Rus had been surprised when he’d requested to visit the cemetery. Rus had driven him there himself, instead of taking the driver. This felt personal.

He waited in the car while Edge visited the graves. Through the shadows of the trees, he could see Edge kneeling on the dirt. He’d stay there for ten or so minutes before moving on to the next grave. Rus never asked why—or whom—and Edge never spoke of it. When he climbed back in the car, his face was a somber mask, and he was silent as ever.

Rus had considered visiting the graveyard on his own, just to see who the graves belonged to. But that felt wrong on so many levels—a violation of something deeply private and personal. No, if Edge wanted him to know, he’d tell him.

And one day, he did.

It was well past midnight when they pulled up outside the steel gates of the town’s cemetery. Edge sat in the passenger seat for an entire minute before he looked at Rus, and softly said, “Will you come with me?”

Rus looked at him in surprise. His gaze was lowered, red eyes focused anywhere but Rus’s face. “of course, precious,” Rus said, reaching for Edge’s hand. Edge squeezed his fingers, exhaling before climbing out of the car. Rus followed him to the rusty gates. They creaked as Edge pushed them open. Wind whistled in the branches of an old oak above their heads as they walked through the cemetery.

Edge stopped at an unassuming corner of the graveyard. The graves here looked old, and mostly untended. Shrubs and overgrowth covered a lot of the tombstones, as if they’d been forgotten. Edge knelt in front of a small gravestone. The engraving was faded.

He sat painfully still, with a tight jaw and furrowed brow. Rus hovered behind him, uncertain yet, if Edge needed more than just his presence. He studied the gravestone. It belonged to someone named Iris Bell. He didn’t recognise the name. Edge had never mentioned it. Cautiously, he asked, “who was she?”

So still, Edge almost blended in with the gravestones around him. When he spoke, his voice was flat and unemotional. “Ninety-two years ago, she worked at the bookstore that used to be on North Lane. She played the piano, and grew tulips in her garden. She was kind, but quiet. She had few friends to speak of. But her soul was good. She was good.”

Rus smiled softly. “you knew her?”

“I killed her.”

Rus’s smile dropped at once, and his soul gave a sickening clench. They never talked about this. Rus knew Edge had killed—the warden had told him as much during the years he’d been Edge’s donor at the Sanctuary. He’d never gone into specifics, though—how many, how long ago, _whom._

Edge stood up and moved to the grave beside Iris’s, still rigid and impassive. He didn’t look at Rus. “Rupert Black. He was Iris’s fiancé. He worked as a florist at a shop in the market square—it’s still around, if I’m not mistaken. There’s a stall…”

“black’s roses,” Rus whispered, thinking of the flowers Edge bought him.

“The forest up north… that’s where he got them.” He looked at Rus then, and the lack of emotion in his expression made Rus’s marrow run cold. “The snowdrops.” Rus opened his mouth but no words came out, not a sound. He swallowed a breath of air, feeling light-headed. “He was home…” Edge went on softly. “He was there when Irish died. He was with her when…” He smoothed his fingers over the stone and Rus’s soul plummeted. The date of death matched Iris’s.

Edge moved to the next grave down and Rus followed him. He reached out then let his hand fall. He couldn’t bear this. “edge… don’t. please.”

“Austin Bell,” Edge said, as if Rus’s words had been lost in the wind. “He was Iris’s younger brother. He liked to read and cook, and sometimes, he helped Rupert in his shop.” He inhaled, and his breath wavered. “He was also home with Iris and Rupert.” Rus could feel tears trickling down his face. He clasped his hands in front of his mouth, shaking his head. “He was in the kitchen, cooking.” Edge’s voice went weak suddenly, and faintly, he said, “Blackberry pie, if I recall correctly. He was…” There was the emotion. The pain, the remorse, the agony. “He was eleven.”

Rus collapsed to his knees, the breath leaving him. He could see the tears glistening on Edge’s face now, sharp breaths making his chest heave. Rus reached for him without thinking and pulled him into his arms. Edge cried into his chest, trembling, and Rus held him, fighting his own sobs without success. “He was a child,” Edge whimpered. “A little boy, and I—all of them, I k-killed them all.”

There were no words that would comfort Edge, Rus knew. So he crushed their bodies as close as he could and swallowed back his own tears, for Edge’s sake. “Ninety-two years,” Edge breathed, his whole body quivering in Rus’s arms. “And I’m still alive. Their killer is walking free. And my life is—my life is _perfect._ I have you. I have everything I could want. I don’t deserve it! I deserve to be in the ground, rotting.”

Nothing could have kept Rus from breaking down in that moment. A violent sob escaped him, a desperate whimper, and he was shaking his head desperately. “please, please don’t, edge. don’t talk like that, i can’t bear it. you can’t say that. you _can’t leave me._ ” He squeezed Edge so tightly his arms ached, until Edge held him back, inhaling against his neck. “you’re not… you’re not the demon you think you are,” Rus whispered, gasping for breath through his tears.

Edge’s voice was quiet and guarded when he spoke. “Rus, you don’t know—”

“yes, yes i _do,_ ” Rus said hysterically. He pulled away to look at Edge, hot tears running down his face. “you’re everything to me—everything! and you’re _good,_ whether you’ll admit it or not, you’re good. you’re good because you care, because you _love,_ because you try to be better. and—and i don’t care if you won’t forgive yourself, because i will. i’ll forgive you, and i’ll love you. and i know you. you’re not the person that did this. that was someone else, someone who isn’t you, not anymore.” Rus felt dizzy with panic and fear. He wrapped his arms around Edge again and pressed himself into him. If he held on tight enough, everything would be okay. “you c-can’t leave me,” he sobbed. “please, edge, not like this, not because of this. you’ve let yourself suffer for too long. please just… let yourself be happy. with me. please.”

When he felt Edge’s arms slowly cradling him, bracing his skull against his chest, Rus exhaled heavily. “I’m not leaving you, Rus,” Edge said softly, stroking his spine. Sighing, he pulled him into his lap and held both his hands delicately in front of him, touching his teeth to them in a kiss. “I couldn’t if I tried.” He drew Rus in again and nestled his head into the nape of Rus’s neck. Rus cried against his shoulder, and Edge held him. “I love you too,” he promised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although it's technically the end of this portion of 12 days, I'll probably add one or two more chapters to this at some point. I'm not entirely happy with where I've left it, and I'd like to resolve it.


End file.
